


Don't Forget Me

by Fishyz9



Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 17:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishyz9/pseuds/Fishyz9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonny reaches a crossing point.  For the longest time he’s been adamant about being exactly where he wants to be. Now he begins to question himself.  A mix of angst and hurt/comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Forget Me

** Don’t Forget Me.  **

I look at my phone when it buzzes again, wincing when I notice that one: I have a five text messages from Will, and two: that it’s almost midnight. I pick up the pace and send a quick text to let him know that I’m on my way home. I don’t want my ass to turn into a pumpkin, now do I?

While I do feel like kind of a dick for maybe ignoring one or two of his texts and for not being home when I said I would, I know he’ll understand when I tell him about my night. And I know, or I _hope_ ― it’s not like I’m unaware of how busy and distracted I’ve been lately―that he’ll understand when I tell him that I’m just making a pit stop.

When I get to our front door I do something out of character for me: I hesitate, and I realize it’s because of the guilt I can feel coiling in my stomach. This, oddly enough, irritates me. I get that home life is important, of course it is, but so is work. We have rent to pay, after all. And…okay, maybe I spun a small white lie when I told Will and Gabi that I’d split everything three ways when it came to the bills. I mean, come _on_. We’re all students, but I’ve got a couple of years on these guys (and the savings account that comes with that) and more importantly, I own my own business. Will and Gabi work at pub whenever they can, but their salaries aren’t going to compare to what I can bring home in a month.

But they don’t need to know that. Will _especially_ doesn’t need to know that.

I push open the door just as Will’s clearing two plates away from the kitchen table. I recognize the resigned slump to his shoulders, but it disappears almost instantly, and a smile ―that one smile that looks like relief whenever he sees me and never fails to take my breath way―slowly blooms across his lips.

“There you are” he says softly.

“Here I am.”

He turns up the wattage on that smile, and for a second, I forget what it is I was supposed to say.

He looks down at the plates in his hands and then quickly places one back down on the table before walking over the microwave oven. He darts a quick grin at me over his shoulder as he opens the door. “Let me just heat this up.” He nods at the table, and honestly, it hurts how pleased he is that I’m home. “Sit down; we’ll turn super into a midnight snack.”

“Uh…”

“I made…” he says, squinting at the buttons of the new microwave I bought recently and he still doesn’t quite know how to operate. “I made that lemon chicken you really like, though...I mean I may have burnt it a little, but…” He takes a step back; pleased with himself that the microwave actually does as commanded, and then turns those pretty peepers on me.

He bites the corner of his lip for a second before walking over to me, and I realize with a pang that he’s nervous for some reason, nervous around _me_ of all people. Then it hits me that maybe it’s because I haven’t moved an inch or said more than a handful of words to him all day. _What the hell, Sonny?_

He reaches for my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “I’m really glad―”

“Uh, Will?” I interrupt him, squeezing his hand. “Would…would it be alright if I took that food to go?”

The thumb across my knuckles stills, and I can already see disappointment in his eyes. _Damn_.

“To go?” He echoes, his voice small and flat.

I wet my lips, my hand stroking up along his arm. “Yeah, see…” I sigh, and then swipe a hand over my mouth. “Okay, these guys that Brent knows? They came in for coffee earlier, and…well they left it until the last freaking _second_ to tell me that they were looking to invest some money in a new, up and coming…” I trail off, because dammit, he’s doing it without even realizing it. He’s giving me the puppy eyes.

“But, but I thought―”

“This could be such a great opportunity for us, Will. They just need to see Common Grounds as the bar, not the coffee shop, so…”

“So…I don’t get to see you at all, today?”

“Will…” I say softly, silently asking him to just be okay with this so I can get going.

He rubs his hand against the back of his neck, and then gives me a smile that I know is forced. “Of course.” He nods his head, and I see his throat work when he swallows, and then his eyes go a little wide as an idea strikes him. “How about I come with you?”  He asks, painfully hopeful.

I feel my stomach drop. How the hell do I tell my adorable, earnest boyfriend that I need him to not be there?

“Uh, well…” I wince. “I’m going to be kind of busy, and…” I reach for his hand again. “And if my gorgeous boyfriend is there, well then I’m not going to be able to concentrate much, am I?”  I smile at him.

To my horror the warmth in his eyes evaporates, and though he doesn’t snatch his hand out of mine outright, he does pull away from me. “If you don’t want me there, just say, Sonny.” He says dully. “Don’t be patronizing, we don’t do that each other.”

I frown at him. “I’m not trying to be patronizing Will, come on.”

“Well, maybe you don’t mean to be …” He says quietly as he turns back to the kitchen when the microwave dings.

“You understand that investors mean more money, right? We could hire additional staff; I could be at _home_ more… ”

He puts the plate down on the counter with a thump, and the look he gives me is utterly indignant.

“Yes, Sonny. Believe it or not, your boring, table waiting, stay at home boyfriend understands what the word _investor_ means.”

“Please don’t be like that.” I make the mistake of rolling my eyes, and when I cut a glance at him next there is something distinctly cold about the way he’s looking at me. It pulls me up short, because I’m not used to him looking at me like that. Not at all.

“Fine,” he says, “go.”

“Will…”

His back is to me as he pulls Tupperware tubs out of a draw along with foil to wrap up the food, and I can’t help but feel like an utter jackass. “Just do what you have to, Sonny. It’s fine.”

I let out a heavy sigh and lift my hand, only to let it flop back down against my side. “Like I’m going to take off when you’re this pissed.”

He’s still facing away from me, but he shakes his head. “Not pissed” he mutters.

“Well, you could have fooled me.” I watch as he puts the food from both plates into the containers, and I wince. “You need to let that go cold before you… put it in the uh, the fridge…” I trail off; realizing that criticizing him in any way at this moment is just plain _stupid_.

His frame goes still and he glances back at me over his shoulder.

“Just, you know…salmonella and all that…” I have never felt so sheepish in all my life.

He stares at me for a second and then whips the lid off the containers. He pulls open the side panel to kitchen cabinet where the bin is, and turns them upside down, dumping the food in the garbage.

“Or I guess you could just do that.” I mutter, knowing that I’m in big trouble.

“I guess you’ll just have to make a sandwich _to go_.”

Okay, that was just downright catty.  “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little? It’s just _dinner_.” I glance at my watch.

The look he shoots me is unguarded, hurt. “Just din―” I glance at him when he breaks off midsentence. “Did you actually just do that?”

“What?”

“Did you check the goddamn time while I’m trying to talk to you?”

“Oh for―will you stop that? _Please_? Please just stop being so oversensitive.”  

“Oversensitive.” He repeats quietly. “I’m being oversensitive.”

My mouth works because I don’t really know what to say and I can’t really place why he’s as upset as he is. It’s at that exact moment that I run out of patience. I’m doing this for the both of us. I’m doing this so that we have a little financial cushion for the future, and yes, I’m excited about moving my own life along in the one aspect that does not involve my boyfriend. But I’ve gone beyond the extra mile to make everyone else happy here, and I think I’m entitled to be just a little preoccupied with something that is just mine right now.

I purse my lips, shake my head. “I have to get going.”

He nods. “You do that.” He walks over to the couch, picks up the remote, and then sits and just fiddles with it in his hand. He doesn’t even look at the TV.

I turn to leave, but then pause, squeezing my eyes shut in frustration before turning back around to face him. “Dammit, Will. It’s one night.” My defense is weak, and we both know it. It won’t be just one night.

He nods his head, worrying the corner of his lip, and he just looks young and unsure and…and if I’m going to leave I need to leave now, because Will when vulnerable is my kryptonite. 

“You need to be here to check on Ari, anyway.” I try.

The look he gives me is disbelieving. “Are you serious right now?” The hand holding the remote in his lap goes slack. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“What?”

“Arianna is with _Gabi_ , who is staying with _Rafe_ for the night, I told you this like…like three times!”

I close my eyes, remembering snatches of a conversation where Will had indeed told me as much.  I recall bright blue eyes, eager, a little excited, even secretive as he told me again to keep the night free. “Right, right. I’m sorry…”

“You are _unbeliev_ ―”

“ _I said I’m sorry!_ ” I yell at him. Actually _yell_. Shit.

He pulls back, blinking at me in hurt surprise. He says nothing, and eventually just swallows hard and glances away, silent.

“I’m… _shit_ , I’m sorry, Will.” I whisper. But he won’t even look at me. “I didn’t mean to…um.” I rub the back of my head awkwardly. “I have to…I have to go…”

He nods his head, but he doesn’t look up at me from the couch.

“Will…”

Nothing.

“I’ll try to not wake you in the morning.” I feel like such an asshole it’s not even funny, but even without having investors and Chad waiting on me, I wouldn’t have a clue what to say to take that look off his face. “Okay,” I whisper. “Night.”

He just nods his head, keeping his gaze on his hands that twist together in his lap. I turn and leave, making sure to close the door quietly―accidentally slamming the door at this point would be beyond douchey―and head on back to work.

I make it about ten paces before I realize that one of the reasons for heading home―other than checking in with Will―was to change my shirt which had coffee stains down the front. An over excited toddler barreled into me earlier today, sending (scolding) coffee all over me. As busy as we were I hadn’t had a chance to change. And damn, I needed to look professional right now…

I head back, pausing outside the door for a few seconds before going in. He’s at the kitchen, running the dirty dishes under the faucet when his eyes meet mine. There’s no ignoring the slight sheen in those eyes, or the briefest look of hope at my return.

“I, uh…I just need to change my shirt.”

His gaze instantly cuts away from mine, something in him deflating as he clears his throat and fiddles with the faucet. “Sure.” He says.

“I’ll just…” I nod towards to the bedroom.

He watches me and then quickly steps away from the sink, plates forgotten and his hands still dripping as he looks between me and the bedroom.  “Uh, y-you don’t have to―I ironed some of our stuff earlier.” He nods over at a small, completed ironing pile by the coach. “Let me grab you something.”

I frown at him and his sudden shift from upset to helpful. “Um, thanks, but I actually want to wear my purple shirt. It’s hanging up, so…”

I leave him in the living room, crouched over an ironing pile with a shirt hanging loosely from his hand. I’m already half way to the closet when I actually notice my surroundings.  

He’s changed the bedding, the sheets are crisp and clean and inviting. He’s pulled down the blind, and everywhere is spotless. But what gets me are the candles. There are candles― _lit_ candles―absolutely everywhere.  He’s changed our bedroom into a romantic setting.

So it wasn’t just dinner.

I turn around when I sense him behind me. He’s hovering by the door, his cheeks flushed pink, and I kind of feel like crying at how mortified he looks.

“You did all this?”

He lifts one shoulder just enough for me to see it, and his mouth works, trying to say something, but nothing comes out.

I look back at the romantic, _seductive_ setting, and I close my eyes tightly. “It was a date. I freaking stood up my own boyfriend.” I shake my head, running my hand through my hair. It’s too much, I truly could scream.

“It’s…it’s not like that. I mean I didn’t really tell you. I was trying to surprise you, so…”

“Oh, I’m surprised alright.” I bite out, and I have no idea why I’m so angry right now.

Maybe it’s because I’m exhausted. Maybe it’s because I’m frustrated. I’ve been working my ass off; I’ve been trying to do my best to contribute to looking after Ari, and between that there hasn’t been any time for me and Will. And right now when I desperately need to be somewhere else, he does this sweet, considerate thing. And I can’t even feel grateful, because I’m too close to pulling my hair out in frustration at the timing of it all.

“I thought…” he wets his lips. “I thought with Gabi and Arianna gone for the night that we could just…be alone, you know? Maybe…” He shrugs. “Maybe…reconnect?” He gives me a small, uncertain smile.

I know what he’s so shyly trying to say, and I am so on the same page, he has no idea. I’ve missed him― _physically_ ― like you wouldn’t believe, how could I not? I’m crazy about him and he’s stunning. But I just cannot. Be. Here. Right. Now.

I swallow hard, walking over to the wardrobe and pulling the door open with so much force that I nearly pull the damn thing off its hinges.  I yank my purple shirt off its hanger and hang it over the wardrobe door as I practically claw at the buttons of the dirty shirt I’m wearing.

“Sonny?” I hear him say, but I can’t look at him right now. I can’t look at how confused and wounded I’ve made him. I can’t look at how perfect and handsome he is.

“They’re waiting for me.” I whisper, clearing my throat when my voice wobbles slightly.

When he doesn’t answer, I glance over my shoulder at him when sliding on the clean shirt, and then immediately wish that I hadn’t. He looks so lost. He’s standing there, unable to figure out why I’m not answering him and why I’m still leaving, as if this bedroom isn’t the most romantic setting I’ve ever seen.

I finish buttoning the shift, clenching my jaw and ignoring the voice in the back of my head that’s screaming at me to get my fucking priorities in order and to say something to him, but I just push past him. He even stumbles slightly against the doorjamb.

I pause when I hear his voice as I reach the front door, my hand even resting on the handle, and I grit my teeth.

“What did I do?” He asks weakly. “I-I don’t get it. I just wanted to be with you, what did I _do_?”

I can’t help it, I flash back to nearly a year ago when I threw him out of my old apartment―when I told my confused, inexperienced boyfriend to _get out_. He has that exact same look now.  Just big, blue eyes looking at me for answers, begging for a second chance while not even understanding what he did wrong.

“You didn’t do anything, Will. I just have to go.”

It’s taken a couple of months, but the stress, the frustration, the worry, the _pressure_ hasfinally gotten the better of me, and I somehow manage to close the door behind me, and leave him behind.

Even as I walk away I can’t quite believe what I’ve just done.  It was okay when it was just us and the baby and Gabi. We made it work. But every time a well meaning friend or my mother would harp on at me about what I was _giving up_ I would just shut it out and try and protect Will from that crap. Because he feels that shit. Every bit of it hits its mark, and I hate nothing more when the people who supposedly love me hurt him.

But at the first glimpse of what it would be like to not have any commitments or responsibilities, what do I do? I buckle. I’ve buckled, hurting the person I love most, and for what?  I’m not irrational, and I’m not one to let people down, but then I’ve never been in this sort of situation before either. And whether I want to admit it or not, a lot of sacrifices _have_ been made.

I make it back to the coffee house, and I even manage to feel a rush of excitement at how packed the place is. We take a table in the corner; me, Chad and Brent, and then Dan and Shane, our would-be investors. I can almost forget Will as we talk about redesigning the place, turn-over, and a new sound system and staff numbers. I can almost forget the look of shocked hurt on his face as I closed that door behind me, but not quite.

Chad nudges me with his elbow, and gives me a _what the hell_ look, and I quickly snap back to the present.

Dan checks his watch, and I cringe at the memory of doing that to Will earlier. “Well, gentleman, we’re definitely interested. Do you think you could have a proposal written up by next week?”

“Absolutely,” Chad answers.

I nod my head, hoping that I look at least half as enthusiastic as he does.

“Fantastic! How about a toast?” Shane chimes in.

A part of me thinks that it’s a little premature, but this is where our newly acquired liquor license comes in handy. I stand and rub my hands together. “What’s you poison?”

I head on over to the bar, and Chad follows to lend a hand. He leans in close.

“Can you believe this?”

“I know,” I manage a small smile. “It’s awesome.”

“Yeah? Well, do you want to tell your face that?” he laughs.

“What?”

“Did you have a fight with Will, or something?”

I blink at him, too surprised to actually answer, and he laughs at me. “Abby’s right, you two _are_ adorable.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Here we are, about to take this huge step forward with our business, and you have your _I miss my boyfriend_ look on your face. What gives?”

My shoulders slump and I look back at our private table to check that we’re not being watched. Luckily Brent is doing a great job at keeping our guests entertained. “I had a…a _thing_ with Will.”

“A thing?” Chad frowns as he uncorks one of our best bottles.

“It wasn’t a fight exactly, but I was…damn. I was _terrible_.”

He looks up at that, the protective friend in him at full alert. “What do you mean?”

“I just...I walked out when I really shouldn’t have.  And now I fucking hate myself.”

He puts the bottle down with a thump. “Whoa. You don’t curse, Sonny. You are sunshine and happiness, you _never_ curse.”

“Yeah, well that’s how much I _suck_ right now.” I say miserably.

“Okay, go home.”

“What?” I sputter out, almost laughing. “I can’t leave _now_.”

“Why not? The schmoozing is over for the most part, I’ve got it from here.”

It hits me that what I want―no, what I _need_ more than anything else right now is to be at home with Will.  “You’re sure?”

He shrugs. “Just tell them you’ve been on since this morning―which you _have_.”

I’m hit with missing Will and complete and utter exhaustion all at once.  “Oh my _God,_ I’m tired.”

Chad watches me for a second, and then snags up the bottle and begins to pour. “Okay, Sonny, this is what’s going to happen. We’re still in this together, fifty-fifty, alright? But I’m taking the lead in this.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Look, there’s no denying that the coffee house wouldn’t be as successful as it is if it wasn’t for everything _you’ve_ put into it, not me. So now I’m returning the favor. I’m taking the lead. Any additional stress, any late night shifts; it all falls to me this time. You’ve got too much going on at home.”

I frown at that. This was exactly what I’ve been avoiding thinking about. “I’m capable, Chad.”

“Uh, _yeah_.” He laughs. “No kidding, Sonny. But you’re going to burnout unless I pick up the slack for you.” He squeezes my shoulder. “So that’s what I’m going to do.”

“So…what? I just manage the coffee house and you manage the bar?” I don’t like the sound of that.

“ _No_ ,” he draws out slowly. “We alternate that, but all the shit that comes with our new venture? I’m going to try shoulder the majority of it. I’ll tag you in when it gets too much, don’t worry, but it’s time for me to repay the favor.”

He rolls his eyes at me good-naturedly when I stare at him blankly. “Sonny, it’s no secret that I was kind of checked out last year when Melanie left. We had a new business and I more or less just lost interest. And instead of calling me on it like any normal person would, you just let me sulk for a while and shouldered the burden. Then with the whole Gabi Nick wedding thing?” He shudders. “ _Yeesh_.”

I feel something inside of me begin to unwind. I wasn’t losing anything, we were still moving forwards, but this somehow felt more doable. “Are you sure?”

He nods. “Absolutely. Now go say your goodbyes, and then go make up with Will. You know how he can mope sometimes.”

I look at him, grinning slightly and raising one eyebrow. He winces. “Please don’t tell him I said that.”

I laugh at him and he cracks a grin.

“I’m not kidding. Dude may be a sweet guy and two feet shorter than me, but he can still pack a punch.”

“Chad, _everyone_ is two feet shorter than you.”

“All the same…”

I shake my head, and not for the first time I find myself satisfied with my choice of business partner. “Thanks, Chad. This means a lot.”

“No problem.”

I say my goodbyes, and both Dan and Shane are gracious and accepting, only Brent frowns at the sudden departure. The walk home is a difficult one. I’m not exactly dragging my feet, but I can’t come up with a single damn thing to say that will explain away my irrational―and somewhat _unkind_ ―behavior. Just what the hell do I say to Will?

_I’m sorry, Will. I had a much overdue freak-out, and I bailed. But it was just for a little while, I’m back now, see?_

I open our front door quietly and make sure to lock up behind me. The lights are off and I can still smell the remnants of Will’s lemon chicken in the kitchen. And God dammit but I love Will’s lemon chicken.

I heel off my shoes and pad over to the bedroom, when I crack open the door, I can tell immediately that he’s asleep. In fact I can’t help but smile a little at the sight of him. He’s lying across the bed, hugging my pillow. I undress as quietly as possible and then pause at the edge of the bed. He couldn’t have been asleep long, I realize as a lump forms in my throat; the dampness under his eyes is still visible.

Goddammit. God _dammit._ For all the flaws he and everyone else seems to think he has, that’s nothing compared to my ability to hurt him. And it’s not even a conscious thing. It’s just at times like this, when he’s unaware and unguarded, that I see how vulnerable a person he truly is and how much he trusts me when I tell him that he is enough. That yes, I want him.

And then I just walk out.

I’m letting Chad take the lead on this. Decision made. I’ve got to have something to myself, I _have_ to. I can’t _not_ move forwards with my life, but this is where I am now. This is where I need and want to be.

I crouch by the side of the bed, and my hand cups his jaw, my thumb brushing over his cheek. He takes a deeper breath, frowning in his sleep.

“Will,” I murmur.

He stirs, groggy, blinking awake, and then looks at me. “Son―?” He glances back over his shoulder at the alarm clock, sees that it’s only a little past two in the morning, and then looks back at me. “What are you doing home?”

“I shouldn’t have left.”

He immediately retreats into himself, unprepared to talk about it without having had sufficient enough time to think about what he needs to say. I _know_ him. But this time, I’m not giving him an easy escape. I tip his chin up.

“I got overwhelmed, I made the wrong decision, and I’m sorry.” I say, just getting to the meat of it because dammit, we’re better than this. “I love you more than anything.”

He watches me, edges forward, and then wets his lips. “You have to tell me when you begin to change your mind, Sonny. I need warning. I need… _time_. Time to…to just try and not collapse, okay?”

“That’s _not_ going to happen.” I whisper harshly.

“It could. It so easily could. It doesn’t matter how much you love me, Sonny.”

I close my eyes for a second, because…because he’s right. If you were to ask me where I _want_ to be a few years down the line? I could answer you in a heartbeat. Now, if you asked me where I _think_ I’ll be a few years down the line…I’m faced with a nagging sense of uncertainty. All I know for sure is that I want and need him.

“Promise me you’ll give me warning.”

I swallow hard, and then nod my head.

He takes a deep, unsteady breath, his gaze dropping to the coverlet as he clenches his jaw. As if my acknowledgement and agreement to his request just made it all the more real, all the more possible.

I brush my fingers against his jaw again. “Don’t.” I whisper.

“I can’t help it.” He says, his voice breaking. He tries to roll away from me, ashamed.

I pull him back to me, tilt his chin up, and blue eyes glisten with tears as he looks at me. “You are so beautiful,” I gasp out, and before he can even answer me my mouth is over his, drawing him into a deep, openmouthed kiss.

I shove the sheets aside impatiently and lay myself over him, nudging his thighs apart. His hands grip fistfuls of my hair and without thought for finesse or romance; I reach down and shove his boxers down as far as I can before he kicks them off himself.

“I need you,” I pant into the kiss, and he nods his head quickly.

This room may have been the perfect setting for seduction a few hours ago, but right now all that matters is being inside of him. I lunge across to the bedside draw, fumble inside for a minute, and then let out a loud curse.

“What?” Will asks, his lips barely lifting from my shoulder where he lays soft kisses against my skin.

“Lube, but no condoms.”

“ _What_?” He asks, sitting up slightly and looking to where I hold only half a tube of lube, and then collapses back against the mattress with a pained groan of frustration. He rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I can’t _believe_ I forgot that.”

I slump against him, resting my cheek against his chest. “Well, it _has_ been a while. It’s not something I remembered either.”

“I just…” He takes a deep breath and I lean up, over him when I realize that he is genuinely upset. “I just really, really need to be with you.”

I trace his jaw with mu thumb. “Will, honey, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” He leans up on one elbow, almost close enough to kiss me. “I just really need to feel you, alright? I just need to feel like you need me as much as I need you.”

“And you don’t feel that way now?”

He closes his eyes tight, slumping back against the mattress. “I’m not trying to fight, I swear…”

“I know.”

He looks at me, and he just looks so sad and needful that it kills me. I brush my fingers against his cheek.

He wets his lips. “Do we really need them?” He asks quietly.

My hand stills, and I raise my eyebrows in question. “Need what, exactly?”

“You know what I’m saying.”

I swallow hard, my erection beginning to ache. “No condom?”

He bites his lip. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever been with, and you said you were always careful.”

“I don’t know, Will…”

“Please?” He breathes, and then he reaches a hand down between us and begins to stoke me. I close my eyes at the sheer bliss of it. “Please, Sonny?”

“Oh God, Will…” He’s doing it just how I like it, and whatever hesitance I feel slowly melts away.

“Don’t you want me?” He murmurs against my lips, and something inside of me splinters.

I take his mouth in a rough kiss, reaching for the lube. Preparation for him next to nonexistent, but neither of us can wait. My hand shakes as I stroke myself with the minimal supplies we do have, and I can’t help but smirk at the half groan, half whimper that leaves his lips as he watches me. He wants me that bad.

That first push, the first slide into him―I wasn’t expecting the heat. I wasn’t expected the slick, tight heat that envelopes me. I think absently, as my mouth hangs open, slack, that it’s quite incredible what a thin layer of latex can withhold.

“Oh my God, _Will_.” I gasp out, hiking his leg up against my side.

I open my eyes when I’m completely inside of him and I feel his hands in my hair. The way he’s looking at me floors me. There is so much trust in those eyes, so much love and passion, and every bit of it is for me.

“Kiss me,” he whispers, lifting his head from the pillow even as he lightly tugs on my neck.

I kiss him and then role my hips. He gasps against my lips, and I plant both hands firmly either side of him and…and I can’t help it. As much love as there is between us, this feeling is a runaway train and I start to fuck him. It’s been too long and it feels too good to draw this out into slow lovemaking. That’ll come later, but for now―for right now we need this.

His hands scrape down my sides, down my chest, and the way he pushes his head back into the pillow as I rock his body beneath me is just too exquisite for words. I don’t know where this rougher side of me has come from; maybe it’s from seeing him so lost and confused, I don’t know. But I just have this overwhelming urge to _own_ him―to have him completely and utterly desperate for me.

I reach for his hands, entwining our fingers and laying them so the backs of his hands are pressed firmly into the mattress above his head.  I brush my nose against his, steal a lingering kiss, and then move my hips with a little more force, moving faster until he cries out beneath me.

I know the second he starts to come. He screws his eyes shut and presses his face into the crook of neck, groaning out my name. I’m not far behind him, but then I’m suddenly hit by the thought of… _what do I do?_

“Will,” I pant against his damp neck. “I’m coming.”

He canters his hips in answer, making it good for me, and I groan like I’m in pain.

“Sho― _ah!_ Should I…should I pull out?”

I see the indecision in his eyes, and that’s answer enough for me. This isn’t how a decision like this should be made―three seconds before it’s about to happen. I pull out of him, take myself in hand, and it only takes two strong strokes and the touch of his hand against my hip to make me come. And honestly, seeing my come across his stomach and chest…it’s enough to get me riled up all over again.

We catch our breath. I tell him to stay put and I take care of him, but after that we’re in bed and I have him in my arms and it’s like I never want to leave or speak to another person ever.

I love him so much that it hurts to even conceive of a time and place where he is no longer mine. And I think he can sense this in me, because he’s content to let me clutch him close. He lets me run my fingers through his blond hair, he hums happily when I press kisses against his temple and entwine my legs between his. And it’s not that he’s reveling in this need that has overwhelmed me, but I think it’s more that he’s relieved we’re both in the same place.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I murmur, because afterglow or not, it needs to be reiterated.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. His arms squeeze back for a second. “Thank you.”

“I hate hurting you.”

“Don’t say that like it’s a regular thing, it’s not.”

“Once is enough.”

“I understand that you have a life outside of this apartment, Sonny. I want that for you.”

“I know.”

“Just…don’t forget me. Please don’t.” He whispers against my shoulder.

“I won’t.”

No matter what our future―or my future, worst case scenario―entails, I will never in all of my life forget Will Horton.

 

 


End file.
